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I give blood to prove to myself That I can matter to somebody else. Is what makes a man the dirt on his hands? If so, don't put you're faith in the dessert sand, because the wind is always blowing There are gallows deep inside my lungs, that's where I hung ambition Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door? Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984 I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors So give me seven more I give blood not for the cause but to slowly give up the person I was Holding my breath won't help, everything went to hell So now I steal back pennies from the well because my wishes failed I am screaming at my own shadow to stop living like a ghost Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door? Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984 I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors I don't need her I'm not that desperate Come visit me in twenty years and maybe then cause I'm not done screaming yet you can call off the intervention, I don't need your attention |
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